


Letters from Temptations

by Laurasauras



Series: Temptations [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Love Letters, M/M, Pictures of penises drawn by someone who is not an artist, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25687468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Letters from the Temptations series. Not intended to be read stand-alone, use the links within the main fics instead.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Dirk Strider
Series: Temptations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1380256
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. 1st Dirk Letter

**Author's Note:**

> I am not an artist, but I've sure tried my best.

Hal,

Just so you know, I’m still alive. As much as I can be, anyway, since vampires are generally presumed undead by default. I’m not sure that even makes sense considering I’m still breathing and pumping blood like any other person, but I’m not gonna waste paper going into detail about that. I know it’s only been a day (or night, I guess?), but I probably wouldn’t be doubting my ability to miraculously kick the bucket before the first 24 hours is up if I was you. “Vamp noob on the way to pay for fang-banging crimes gets fried up in cop car due to a time error, tune in for more at 8.” At least no one would have to pay for me to be cremated in that scenario.

Apparently the dining here is limited to the amount of grody ass blood bags they can squeeze through the slot in the door, which makes sense, but I think your earlier idea of how feeding works in vampire prison was a lot more fitting for $5 low quality erotic novels. Unless they introduce actual people into the game later on, in which case I suppose I’ll owe you the price of a low quality erotic novel for doubting you. If they attempt to squeeze a cadaver or a living person through the food slot, I’ll let you know. Corpse blood sounds gross, though.

I totally chugged around half a bag of blood by the way, and I dealt with it way better than the last time I tried to break the Hal diet. It was still fucking gross, but so are your food choices, which I’ve essentially consumed secondhand through you up until now, so I don’t think I have much room to complain. Eating runny egg yolk through your bloodstream is kind of unpleasant to think about. 

My room is probably about what you’d expect from a rehabilitative facility attempting to cut costs on everything it can without doing itself in, but I have my own shower. It’s one of those tiny ass ones and the water pressure is downright depressing, but it’s better than public showers. Do you think I could sue for emotional distress because they stuck me with a 3-in-1 shampoo? There’s also not a light in here. Or a window in the whole building, but that makes sense. I would say that maybe they’re trying to be considerate of the light sensitivity issue that apparently comes along with vampirism, but I’m feeling inclined to place my money on no one wanting to pay the electric bill for however many vampire cells are in the building. 

I haven’t been poked and prodded or experimented on in case you were worried about that type of thing. The worst they did is take my blood pressure, which turned out to be fairly dismal, though I did find out that there is a research floor here. And they take fang impressions for identification purposes. I’m not sure if someone is supposed to swing by and do that or if they’re going to use what they can get from the mouth-guard. Registration really is all about knowing you from the inside out.

Someone dropped off a few books to keep me from succumbing to mind numbing boredom. I got a notebook too, which I’m going to assume is intended for letter writing purposes, though the urge to draw several detailed horse cocks in it is currently gnawing on my brain stem. You’re lucky I prioritise writing to you over horse cocks. 

Seriously though, I miss you. A lot. I know that I’m at risk of sounding like a stalker when I say this, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m already counting down the minutes until I can see you again in the back of my head. Let me know how you’re doing, okay? I’m a lot more interested in talking about your side of things than telling you how many cobwebs I can count on the ceiling. 

I love you so much.

Love, Dirk


	2. 1st Hal Letter

Dear Dirk,

I can't remember the last time I wrote an actual, honest-to-God, pen and paper letter. I think the teachers forced us to in senior year of high school, like write a letter to your future self type bullshit, but that cannot count. Odds are if I ever find that in a box or whatever it'll be 80% pictures of dicks. Would it be funny if this letter was 80% pictures of dicks? You know what, I'm going to save that comedy gold for when I'm running low on inspiration.

So, since you left I've mostly been sleeping. I think I've gotten far too used to sleeping with you, because it was just the worst trying to get to sleep without you being the sloth to my branch. Seriously, I'm just about ready to buy a body pillow, which naturally will be inferior as it won’t cuddle back, but it'd be something. I'm wondering how funny it would be to get a catgirl one. I'd get one of Light from Death Note, but let's not put you in competition with a pillow case. Unrelatedly, you could totally pull off a Light cosplay. Just sayin'. No further comments.

Oh, Dave visited. That happened. I gave him the address too, so hopefully he'll write you something too, share it with the rest of whoever. I had no idea what you'd told him so heads up, he might know more than what you said now? Hopefully he'll fill you in in his own letter, I don't particularly want to rehash that conversation. I mean, Dave's cool and all, but there was some ... awkwardness.

I'm hoping that everything is going pretty smoothly for you. I know you're smart enough to keep your shit together, and I've very considerately prepared you for dealing with situations conspiring to make you lose your temper. Joking. I know it probably sucks. I really wish I had a way of knowing how you are and what you're doing right now.

I don't know what else to say, and drawing more dicks almost seems sad now. I'll try and do something more entertaining in the time between now and the next letter I send you just so I have something to talk about. Do you have anything else to keep you entertained? How much pressure is there on me to be the light of your life right now? 

I love you so fucking much, Dirk. (Holy shit, I just realised this probably constitutes a love letter. Score one to romance, the best boyfriend award goes to Hal. I'd like to thank the academy, and of course my boyfriend Dirk for being hot enough that romance comes easy with him.) I'm thinking about you literally every second. 

Love, Hal


	3. Chapter 3

Hal,

Fuck, we’ve started two separate letter conversations, haven’t we? Glad to see that both of them appear to involve dicks so far. That’s a relief. You know I can’t comfortably write to you in any other way, babe. 

High school teachers seem to have a thing for forcing students to occasionally perform practices that are almost fucking obsolete in newer generations. Remember cursive, Hal? I remember cursive. I think Rose is the only person I know who goes out of her way to write in cursive. They taught us cursive briefly in elementary school and then threw that shit out the window immediately after. I’m convinced it was merely a tactic for older generations to hold yet another thing over our collective youthful heads, because I don’t know how many goddamn times we have been berated as one singular unit for having shitty cursive handwriting. I’m going to stop there before I go any deeper into that particular rabbit hole. At least the spontaneous letter writing lessons in school are useful now. 

Please send me letters that are 80% dicks. We should send each other dicks and critique them. Personally, while I enjoy your dicks immensely, I think they could benefit from having more veins. Draw the veiniest dicks you can. I want whoever reads these letters to loathe us due to the sheer amount of throbbing, veiny schlongs we draw. We will go down in history as the two idiots to dismantle the current vampire rehabilitation system because all of the employees will be so distressed by the sheer amount of penis art that they all go on strike. Now that we’ve gotten my insatiable lust for dick veins out of the way, the structure of your dick art is superb. Keep going. Bring me to tears with the beauty of your cock art. You’re so close to creating the most perfect man meat out there. I believe in you.

Sorry to hear that you’re experiencing withdrawals now that I’m not there to cling to you in your sleep, but at least you don’t have to worry about the possibility of me accidentally smothering you. I would wager that my insomnia would be in full swing now if it wasn’t for the fact that apparently daylight actually does make vampires prone to passing the hell out. I want to know the science behind that. It sounds like such bullshit, but almost everything to do with vampirism is bullshit. I hope this is something that becomes less powerful with time. I can’t start sleeping like a healthy person now. Do you know how much I get done if I don’t sleep? My productivity will choke and die if this remains an issue. You already impact my productivity badly enough as it is, I don’t need this on my hands as well. 

Regarding the Light comment, is it just in your biology to find things to say that make me want to throttle you on the spot? Seriously, I’m curious. That’s unfair of you to do when I’m nowhere within throttling distance. Also, should we do a Death Note couple cosplay? That sounds like something we should do. Either painfully poorly or with the most effort we can squeeze into it. I refuse to have it any other way.

As for Dave, yeah. Your letter and his both came at the same time, and half of his is him berating me to hell and back for being “a stupid, elusive, fang-banging motherfucker.” The other half confirms that he definitely knows more than what I originally told him, which means that everyone else does as well, so be prepared for premature wedding planning, especially from Roxy. I think Dave’s goal was to attempt to make me want to claw my eyes out, because he spent a good few paragraphs expressing the immense discomfort he felt due to visiting you when you looked as if you had “jumped headfirst into a vampire orgy.” Which, naturally, almost immediately led to him imagining us dicking each other down, which means that I get to imagine him imagining that and I want to die. 

Things are going so fucking smoothly. I am excelling at this. I think I enjoy quarantine more than being at home. That’s a joke. But I’m fine, really. I’ve already detailed just how fine I am in my other letter, so I won’t risk boring you by repeating myself. I hope things are going okay for you though. I know they probably are, but still. I’m not certain if the recurring fits of anxiety about you and how you’re doing are due to me being a vampire or me being a basket case, but keep me updated. 

Draw all the dicks you need to. It’s not sad in the slightest. It’s a noble task, I assure you. And I have all these books and materials to draw dicks with at my disposal. I’m thoroughly entertained. Promise.

I love you too. It’s so surreal to think that we are already to the point of saying that, but I’m glad. I would have been pissed off at myself if I hadn’t told you and even more so if you beat me to the punch there. (You’re such a fucking nerd. I love it so much. Whoever reads these is going to want to vomit because of how mushy we’re being. That only makes you more deserving of the best boyfriend award). I doubt I would be able to stop thinking about you if I tried. 

Love, Dirk


	4. Chapter 4

Dirk,

Fuck I miss you. I could hear so much of you in your letter and it's supremely shitty that I can't squeeze myself through your corpse slot to give you the sloppiest damn kiss. That looks even filthier on paper than it sounded in my head, which is truly impressive. 

I'm gonna have to take up some fucking hobbies so that I have things to tell you about. Or I'll just lie about what I've been up to, I mean at least that'd be entertaining. I could just tell you older stories. 

I've been thinking a lot about when we first started living together. It's kind of a miracle we're both still alive. And that we still live together. I know on my end I wasn't going to be the one to blink first and say it wasn't working out, I assume you just enjoy suffering.

I remember thinking you were hot the second I saw you, which is obviously very romantic, and I'm going to throw away those boyfriend points by saying that the second you started talking I took that back times a million. I've never hated anyone so quickly in my life. Wait, no, I forgot Jake English exists.

Oh my God, was I jealous of Jake Fucking English? No, I have to believe that that's a real hatred. He's a hateable guy, Dirk, and I assume you only didn't realise this because of his weirdly transfixing thighs. He laughs at everything, you have to hate a guy like that. And he tried to be nice to me. These are the weakest justifications for hating someone I've ever seen committed to paper. He had the worst nicknames for you, they didn't make sense. And he had to hold your hand all the fucking time, it was like the world was a highway and he was a toddler. Fuck.

I'd cross all that out from very justifiable shame, but I figure I have to write to you about something, so you might as well come on this journey with me. I don't think that was necessarily me having feelings for you or anything, so don't let your head get too big. I've just always appreciated being the centre of ~~your~~ attention.

You know what, this is enough embarrassment for one letter. I'm going to do some fucking laundry or something because I'm obviously very capable of looking after myself without you. By the way, I can wash my own fucking clothes, that's always been a thing I could do, and the fact that you steal my hamper from me when it isn't even full is one of your less adorable qualities. 

I feel like I've lowkey yelled at you this whole letter. Next one I'll sext you or whatever the letter version of sexting is just to even it all out. I hate that the only person I know that would own a polaroid camera is your brother, because I'm not asking him for it and I'm not buying one just so I can send you an ironic dick pic, probably actually of a cucumber stuffed in my pants.

I love you so fucking much. Send me more horse cocks babe, they're all that's keeping me going.

Hal


End file.
